


Adventures in Babysitting

by Captain_Loki



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Babysitting, Crack, First Crush, Gen, Humor, One-Sided Relationship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 22:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Loki/pseuds/Captain_Loki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney has a crush</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventures in Babysitting

**Author's Note:**

> AU: Rodney in this is a 12 year old high school junior and John is a 17 year old senior

The thing about Rodney McKay that makes him very special, other than his severe allergy to lemons (which made other children think he was some kind of diseased monster when helping his little sister with her lemonade stand wearing a full hazmat suit because most children simply didn’t understand the necessity of owning such a garment as they are generally much too delighted by ice cream and swimming pools to properly understand the harmful effects of the sun’s radiation during the summer months.)

  
Besides that, Rodney is special because he still needs a babysitter as a high school junior.

  
Contrary to properly belief Rodney isn't “special” special, (that helmet wasn’t for safety necessity it was simply an unfortunate fashion mistake) he is quite capable of taking care of himself and only grudgingly allows himself to be treated like a child by his worrisome mother.

  
“But Rodney, you _are_ a child,” his mother tells him soothingly, stroking Rodney's hair.

“I don't think one should really be judged on their physical incapacities, I'm smarter than you mom and you don't need a babysitter.”

  
“Rodney what did I tell you about other people's feelings?” His mother berates.

  
“Mother I designed an atomic bomb when I was in sixth grade, why do I need to have some dumb blonde looking to make an extra buck come and eat our food, watch our tv and ignore me for the entire night?”

  
“Rodney,” his mother warns, pushing her blonde bangs out of her eyes. Rodney smiles and hugs his mother.

  
Rodney’s assumption that his mother would at least have the decency to seek the employment of someone who was not currently enrolled in his high school is surely misplaced. Rodney didn’t think he could bear the thought of being tucked in by someone in his own homeroom, not after the disaster that was his sophomore class school trip to Wonderland theme park, when Rodney was mistaken for an elementary (elementary!) school student and told he was too small to ride the Behemoth rollercoaster.

  
“You’re not blonde,” Rodney observes when his new sitter steps into the living room.

  
“Nope,” the boy says ruffling his own hair, which is already sticking up in several directions Rodney notes.

  
“You’re Sheppard,” Rodney says, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling.

  
“Oh, you two know each other? How nice!” Mrs. McKay says with an air of general cluelessness notorious to most parental units.

  
“Whoopi,” Rodney deadpans sitting back down on the floor and turning the volume back up on the television.

  
“Whatcha watching?” Sheppard asks, stepping into the room.

  
“Special on the dangers of travelling carnivals,” Rodney says without looking up.

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Fools.” Rodney says with a sadistic little grin as the narrator mentions the yearly death rate of fatal carnival accidents.

  
“I like Ferris wheels,” Sheppard says with a complete lack of intellectual depth Rodney assumes can only be expected from one who uses so much hair product. Rodney ignores him. “Never really liked clowns though, things always freaked me out.”

  
Rodney’s chin juts out and he crosses his arms over his chest, staring at John out of the corners of his eyes, refusing to look at the older boy. “Me too.” Sheppard gives him a grin and ruffles his hair. Rodney can feel his temperature rise in what he can only assume is a physiological reaction to some kind of outside stimulus. But Rodney is uncertain of the cause because this only happens when he gets embarrassed, and he doesn’t feel embarrassed. Mostly he doesn’t want John to take his hand away.

  
“I’ll be back by eleven, John, Rodney needs to be in bed by nine or else he gets really cranky in the mornings, also he usually likes watching the Discovery Channel while he has dinner,” Mrs. McKay says. “There’s a big bottle of lotion in the bathroom, make sure he moisturizes before bed, his skin is very sensitive—”

  
“Mom!”

  
“And Jeannie is in her room, bed by 8:30,” John nods and smiles, letting his hand drop from Rodney’s hair. He silently curses his mother and stares at John’s face while he’s not looking.

  
“You sure eat a lot,” John comments later that evening as Rodney helps himself to his sixth slice of pepperoni and onion pizza.

  
“I’m a growing boy,” Rodney says indignantly, refusing to be ashamed.

  
“Ha!” Jeannie snorts, spraying cheese out of her mouth and nose. “Into what? Certainly not _up_ ,” she laughs.

  
“Shut up!” Rodney shouts, feeling his face once again heat up.

  
“Hey Jeannie, that’s not nice,” John tries. Jeannie jumps to her feet and hauls Rodney up.

  
“Look John!” She says with a grin, pulling a struggling Rodney in close to her, measuring their heights side by side with a swoosh of her hand from her forehead over Rodney’s short hair.

  
“And I’m a year _younger_!” Jeannie shouts delightedly. Rodney pushes her onto the floor.

  
“Rodney!” John shouts, helping Jeannie to her feet. Her face is red and her eyes are filled with angry tears. John rubs at her back comfortingly and Jeannie pulls John into a tight hug, sneering at Rodney over John’s shoulder.

  
Rodney finds himself wishing for tears, but he’s not quite sure why.

  
“Hey, I’m making dessert Jeannie, wanna help?” John asks soothingly.

  
“Yes John,” Jeannie says, making a show of sniffling loudly. Rodney scowls. “What are we making?”

  
“Jell-o,” John smiles.

  
“What kind?”

  
“Blue.”

  
“My favorite!” Rodney exclaims with a fist pump and John laughs and Jeannie rolls her eyes.

  
“Mom lets me help her make things all the time. Rodney’s not allowed to use the stove though, on account of the time he almost burned the house down.”

  
“I did not!” Rodney shouts, outraged.

  
“Did too!”

  
“Nuh uh!”

  
“Yah. HUH!” Jeannie shouts.

  
“It was a simple exothermic reaction resulting in fire from the oxidization of the glucose in a gummy bear by potassium chlorate!”

  
“Nobody even knows what you’re saying you turd!”

  
“Awesome,” John says, staring at Rodney in wide eyed reverence. Rodney smiles shyly.

  
“It was pretty cool. I can show you sometime maybe.” Rodney suggests and John nods happily.

  
“Besides! Any idiot can make jell-o Jeannie,” Rodney sneers, turning to his sister. Rodney catches sight of John who’s grinning lopsidedly at him.

  
“Oh. But I bet you make it really good...” Rodney tells him, feeling stupid.

  
“I measure the water and everything,” John teases.

  
“Cool!” Rodney shouts, like he means it. He’s surprised to realize he kinda does.

  
“How about you go take a bath while I make the jell-o,” John suggests, picking up the empty pizza box. “You need any help?” He asks. Rodney scowls, indignant, flushing.

  
“No! And I don’t take baths, I take showers, baths are for kids,” Rodney explains.

  
“I like baths,” John comments.

  
“Baths are awesome.” Rodney agrees.

  


“So how’d you like John?” His mother asks Rodney the next morning. Rodney shoves a spoonful of Lucky Charms into his mouth to hides his grin and shrugs.

  
“He’s okay I guess.”

  
“I see he made jell-o,” Rodney’s mother smiles. “That’s gotta get some bonus points.”

  
“I’m waiting to hear his stance on citrus before I make my final assessments.”

  
“He’s cute,” Jeannie coos, smiling into her corn flakes. Rodney scowls at her.

  
“He’s too old for you! He needs someone mature.”

  
“Like who, you?” she snickers. Rodney juts his chin out and doesn’t say anything.

  


Rodney weighs his priorities heavily and decides that going to physics is much less important than following Sheppard around the library. Besides, he practically TAs for that class anyway, stupid incompetent Mr. Trav…ens? Traves? Travis? Whatever his name is.

  
“Yo Shep, who’s the shadow?” a deep voice asks. Rodney thinks it belongs to Ronon Dex, one of Sheppard’s gigantic hulking  
friends.

  
“That dark thing that follows you around? Comes out in the sun usually? They don’t have those where you’re from?” John jokes, Rodney giggles.

  
“No I mean the midget hiding in Biographies,” Rodney gasps and looks around for a place to hide. He thinks about crouching behind the stool but that seems stupid so he grabs a hardcover on Einstein instead and pretends to read.

  
“What?” Comes John’s confused voice and then he and Ronon are poking their heads around the corner. Rodney blushes and pretends he doesn’t notice.

  
“Hey Rodney,” John says.

  
“Oh hi!” Rodney shouts, feigning surprise. Ronon laughs.

  
“He’s been following us since lunch,” his voice is low but it carries to Rodney anyway.

  
“Uhm, bye.” Rodney says, embarrassed hurrying away. He hears the sound of a punch and Ronon makes a strangled sound of pain.

  
“I wonder where his locker is,” Rodney wonders, staring down the senior hallway, but he doesn’t see him.

  
“Tomorrow night?” _Aha!_ Rodney turns and sees John leaning against the wall beside a row of lockers. “I don’t think I can tomorrow, I’m babysitting.” John says.

  
“C’mon John! Blow it off, it’s Friday night. My parents aren’t home,” the curly haired girl smiling up at John, Rodney knows as Elizabeth, says coyly.

  
“Weeeell,” John says, his voice cracking in that way Rodney has come to associate with John. Rodney kind of loves it. John doesn’t see Rodney, advantages of being four feet tall.

  
“Maybe I could cancel.”

  
Rodney glowers.

  
“Perfect!” She says, tugging a finger in the neck of his shirt.

  
“We’ll see about that,” Rodney mumbles to himself, sneaking into the main office. “See if you get to do anything with anyone for awhile….you…big…tart!”

  
Rodney grumbles, sneaking undetected into the principle’s office. Rodney doesn’t think he’ll get caught but crying usually gets him out of trouble, besides he is adorable.

  
It takes less than three minutes to hack into the school’s system, even less time to pull up Elizabeth’s file and change her As and Bs to Cs and Ds.

  
“Progress report day,” Rodney smirks, laughing maniacally.

  
“Oh John!” Rodney says, feigning surprise, “I didn’t think you were babysitting tonight!”

  
“Yeah Elizabeth was grounded, something about bad grades or something.”

  
“Shame,” Rodney says, smiling once John’s back is turned.

  
Jeannie rolls her eyes dramatically.

  
“You know the drill,” Mrs. McKay says to all three before she leaves. John smiles reassuringly as she goes. Rodney waves goodbye at the window, the picture of innocence. Once her car is safely down the road he turns to John and asks

  
“Want to mix dangerous chemicals and blow stuff up?”

  
“I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  
“You’re the worst babysitter _ever_ ,” Jeannie says, her arms crossed over her chest.

  
“Get stuffed Jeannie.”

  
“No she’s right, I don’t think I’d get paid if I let you blow the house up,” John says reasonably, running a hand through his hair.

  
“I’ll be careful!”

  
“Hmm…”

  
“C’mon…”

  
“Uh…”

  
“I drew you a picture in art class today John, will you come and see it?” Jeannie asks, tugging on John’s arm. John shrugs at  
Rodney and turns to follow.

  
“Wanna play with my remote control car? I put a rocket on the back.”

  
“Whoa!”

  
“Wanna see a picture of Rodney dressed as a giant bunny?”

  
“Uhm…”

  
“Go away Jeannie!”

  
“Shut up _Mered_ —“

  
“Hey!”

  


  
“You’re really good at this game,” Rodney says, watching John blast asteroids on his Atari.

  
“Thanks, want to kill aliens next?”

  
“Yeah!” Rodney smiles, sitting down next to John as close as possible.

  
“John! John! John!” Jeannie shouts. John pauses the game and sits up, turning towards the door. “Help!”

  
“Ignore her.”

  
“What if she’s hurt?” John asks, reasonably.

  
“Good.”

  
“ _Rodney_ ,” John sighs, standing up as Jeannie comes flying into the room and into John’s arms.

  
“What’s wrong?”

  
“There’s a huge spider in my room John! It tried to kill me! It’s poisonous!” She cries, but Rodney can tell she’s faking it. His parents always believe her too.

  
It’s upon seeing his harlot of an eleven year old sister batting her lashes at John that Rodney decides drastic measures and a change of tactic are in order.

  


“Are you sure you parents would let you watch this?” John is asking Rodney, who stands in the doorway to the living room clutching ‘Alien’ on vhs.

  
“Yea, of course.”

  
“It’s a pretty scary movie,” John says, unsure.

  
“I’m almost thirteen, I’m in _high school_.”

  
“Bull. But alright if you don’t tell your parents, then…sure. C’mon,” John motions Rodney over, a little apprehensive. Rodney smiles, popping the video into the VCR and settling back against the couch.

  
John lets him eat a big bowl of ice cream as they watch the movie, and Rodney sits a little closer and closer to John with each passing minute.

  
“You alright?” John asks, looking down at Rodney, practically pressed against his side.

  
“Little scarier than I thought,” Rodney pretends to pretend, because truthfully he’s about to wet his pants mostly because he’s too afraid to walk in the dark to the bathroom, but also because the threat of impending alien attack has him on edge.

  
“You want to stop?” John asks. “I promise no judging. It is a scary movie.” Rodney shakes his head and creeps steadily closer to John until he’s practically in the other boy’s lap. He knows the infamous scene is approaching and he tenses as the crew stands around the alien infected member doomed to a bloody end.

  
Rodney presses himself against John’s side and curls his arm over his eyes to peek out beneath. _This is perfect,_ Rodney thinks. Though he is unsure why he would ever doubt himself, he is a genius after all.

  
His plan takes a colossal turn for the humiliatingly worst ever plan in the history of ever when the alien bursts out of its chesty cage and the blood and the screaming on screen has Rodney shouting, clawing at John in his haste to get away from the entire situation and he feels his stomach in his throat and he’s throwing up mac  & cheese and rocky road all over John’s jeans and the couch.

  


Rodney pushes the door to his bedroom open, wishing his room was a lot cooler.

  
“Sorry…” Rodney says again, staring at his feet as John ushers him into the room.

  
“It’s alright…didn’t really like those jeans anyway,” John tries.

  
“Awesome batman bed sheets,” John says, pointing. Rodney half smirks, apparently vomiting profusely all over someone takes the wind out of his romantic sails.

  
Rodney climbs into the bed and stares at the lumpy forms of his knees.

  
“You need the light on or anything?” John asks when Rodney’s settled. Rodney tries to scoff indignantly,

  
“No.”

  
John nods unconvinced.

  
“Goodnight Rod,” he says before flipping the light off.

  
“Wow, Rod,” Rodney sighs. He waits until John’s footsteps have died away before climbing quickly out of bed and plugging in his Optimus Prime nightlight.

“Loser,” sounds a small muffled voice from the other side of his bedroom wall.

  
“Shut _up_ Jeannie or I’ll melt your Cinderella tape _again_!”


End file.
